


Holly

by freyjaschariot



Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 02:37:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15087152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freyjaschariot/pseuds/freyjaschariot
Summary: rumination on the immediate aftermath of ep 2x11. June-centric





	Holly

They storm the house like they are expecting an army as opposed to a woman and a newborn. And they don’t know the baby’s been born so really all of this is just for me. I suppose I should be flattered. Instead I am merely irritated as the lights mounted onto the scopes of their guns stab my eyes, making me squint and recoil like an animal that has spent months in a dark cave. 

There are eight of them at least, black clad and heavily armed. They slow as they approach me. Is that fear in their movements? They smell the blood, I realize. The musk of it hangs heavy in the room and their bodies react to it even if they don’t know why.

I sit up slowly, cradling Holly to my chest, and the blanket covering our nakedness slides off my shoulders, pooling around my waist. The men freeze in their tracks, discomforted by the sight of my bare skin, my swollen breasts. Several of them avert their eyes and I want to laugh. It seems I am not weaponless after-all. Men don’t like to be reminded that they come from women’s bodies, that they are only here by the grace of their mothers, that they too were once weak and helpless and sought nourishment at a woman’s breast. It was that way even before. 

One of them finds the commander’s coat and throws it to me. I shrug it on, shifting Holly from one arm to the other so that I don’t have to put her down in the process, all the while holding my breath, waiting for the moment a pair of black gloved hands reach down to snatch her from me the way you might pluck an apple from a tree. No one does. They don’t know what to do with me, I realize. I have pulled down the thick walls Gilead constructed to protect men from the realities of childbirth. Without the pageantry, the strictly scripted lines, they flounder like headless chickens, directionless. 

Suddenly the men part, a shorter figure striding through their midst. Aunt Lydia’s head swivels around, taking in the scene; the fire, dying now, embers shifting like rubies in the grate. The bloodstained sheets. And finally, Holly, cradled in my arms. Her face breaks into a soft smile and for a moment it is like a stranger stands before me. My fear slips and I have to remind myself to hitch it back up again as she kneels down beside me and peers down at Holly, her eyes sparkling with tears. “Boy or girl?” she asks. 

I shift her in my arms. “Girl.” 

Aunt Lydia nods, dabs at her eyes. She pats my head the way you might pet a dog who has done a particularly clever trick. “You have done well, Offred. God has seen fit to bless you and we must thank Him for His bounty.”

I say nothing. 

At Lydia’s instruction, the guardians help me up, drape another blanket around me, and guide me outside. I bend over Holly as the frigid air stings my face but we’re only outside for a moment, then it’s up into the warmth of the waiting ambulance. Aunt Lydia slides in beside me and the doors slam shut behind us. 

The ambulance rumbles out of the driveway, the lake house receding behind us before being swallowed up entirely by the darkness. I want to ask where they are taking us but I am not sure I want to know so instead I gaze down at my daughter, savoring this moment before the separation that I know is coming. I run my thumb over her perfect nose and her tiny shell shaped ear. The generous curve of her cheek. I love chubby babies. In spite of everything, I smile. There is beauty in this place still. Even now. Even here. It is fickle and fleeting but it exists. I press my lips to my Holly’s forehead as the ambulance whisks us forward into the black night.


End file.
